


Hair

by writerofberk



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Gen, father/son relationship, honestly i have become a bottomless & unfeeling void of hiccup/stoick fluff, rtte timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 00:50:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10478352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerofberk/pseuds/writerofberk
Summary: It's so simple, and yet so enormous.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ...i have no excuses for this, except that astrid specifically states in "enemy of my enemy" that it's been a month or two since the events of "maces and talons", and the characters haven't changed in appearance at all. ofc i know  & respect that dreamworks doesn't have time for every little detail, but the concept intrigued me enough to write a short fic.

His hair, it’s grown longer.

The once-vibrant red has faded; it’s now a soft, muted auburn and it reaches nearly to his chin, falling thick and unkempt, down his forehead in a slant and just dusting the tips of his eyebrows, rough dark strands contrasting starkly against slightly sunburned skin.

His shoulders have broadened; he’s still slim, at least by Viking standards, but there’s not a hint of weakness in the muscular frame. He appears a bit taller, too, standing now at a height of six feet, or well-nigh. When he regards the other, there is an air of unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome, confidence in the half-smile on his lip – his eyes alone have not changed. There’s still that same energy – that same life, that verve, that gusto – lending a sparkle to the clear green.

But strange as it sounds, it’s the chin that makes Stoick stop and stare. It’s so simple, he thinks, and yet so enormous. And it’s sparse, and he knows that; it’s scattered, and he knows that; it’s wispy and he knows, and it’s a soft, reddish color that blends in perfectly with the skin, but it’s there, and it clings to the narrow, pointed chin – and Stoick is fairly certain the owner doesn’t even realize it’s there. His son is growing a _beard_ , and he hasn’t even noticed.

“Hey, Dad.” Hiccup smiles, reaching up to scratch at his chin – his narrow, pointed, whiskery chin. When he pulls his long, thin fingers from the spot, there’s a smudge of dirt there, and he doesn’t know.

When Stoick finally finds his voice, it comes out wrong. “Your _hair_ …”

“Oh. Oh, that?” The teen’s hands fly to his head; the half-smile twists to form a sheepish, self-conscious grin. “That. That was the twins. I _thought_ I’d gotten it all out, but I guess I missed some…” It jolted him at first; but now Stoick finds that he can’t tear his gaze from the chin, and he can't believe it's taken him this long to notice.

His boy is growing up.


End file.
